


Baby It's Cold Outside

by Sincestiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Time, Frottage, M/M, Wincest - Freeform, spnkinkmeme fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-21
Updated: 2013-11-21
Packaged: 2018-01-02 06:24:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1053532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sincestiel/pseuds/Sincestiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's not a little kid anymore. And Dean's noticed. Quite often actually. Quite enthusiastically even. And getting naked with Sam, particularly in such close quarters, is really not something Dean should do. But as much as Dean would like to avoid this entirely, Sam's right. Their clothes need to dry and they need to get warm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby It's Cold Outside

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this](http://spnkink-meme.livejournal.com/78445.html?thread=28974189#t28974189) prompt.
> 
>  
> 
> _Sam and Dean, not previously in a sexual relationship,are out in bad, cold, nasty awful weather. Maybe the Impala breaks downin the middle of nowhere. Whatever. They get cold and wet and nearly hypothermic. Luckily they run across an unoccupied cabin. But even with a fire in the fireplace, it's still cold. And there's only one bed and a few blankets. So they have to share a small bed and cuddle up for body heat._
> 
>  
> 
> _Of course, they both pop boners. After trying to hide it at first, they end up having sex for the first time._

"We're gonna have to get naked," Sam says as he prods the small fire they've built in the little rundown cabin. It's not doing much good considering there are cracks and holes everywhere. But the little bit of heat is better than nothing.

"Dude, it's cold as fuck and you want to take your clothes off?" Dean asks incredulously.

"Our clothes are wet, Dean, in case you haven't noticed. And we've got a couple blankets. We can make a pallet by the fire and share body heat. Unless you want to die of hypothermia because your stupid car can't handle a little snow."

"Hey!" Dean protests, because nobody talks about Baby like that, "It's not her fault. She's not built for weather like this. It's a fucking blizzard, man."

Sam just shakes his head and slips his jacket off. And then his shirt. And Dean's kind of frozen there, watching his not so little anymore brother strip. But when Sam reaches for the button on his jeans, Dean is pulled out of his stupor.

"Whoa. Seriously, Sammy. We can't just-"

"Why not? We used to do it all the time," Sam says, anticipating Dean's objection to naked spooning or whatever the hell it is Sam's planning, "Not any different now. Except, of course, we might die if we don't."

It is different now though. So much different. For one, Sam's not a little kid anymore. And Dean's noticed. Quite often actually. Quite enthusiastically even. And getting naked with Sam, particularly in such close quarters, is really not something Dean should do. But as much as Dean would like to avoid this entirely, Sam's right. Their clothes need to dry and they need to get warm.

Grudgingly, Dean turns his back and starts to peel his own clothes off, "Fine. But keep your damn underwear on."

"Aw, Dean, you worried about seeing it and finding yourself lacking?"

Or seeing and wanting to touch, Dean thinks.

"Whatever, dude. Just keep all the manly bits covered."

Sam snorts but when Dean turns back around after haphazardly hanging his clothes as close to the fire as he dares, Sam is thankfully still wearing his boxers. And Dean would complain again, as useless as it might be, but Sam's shivering as he arranges the blankets they brought from the Impala – stuffed under their jackets to keep the snow from soaking in – on the floor in front of their pathetic fire. Dean goes into big brother mode instantly, his need to take care of little Sammy outweighing his fears of being outed as a huge pervert who might have a little thing for his own brother.

It doesn't take them long to build a makeshift bed. It's a bit small because they've had to double the bottom blanket to pad the floor, but he guesses that doesn't really matter. They'll need to be huddled together anyway.

When Dean climbs in, he makes sure his back is to Sam and leaves enough room for Sam to climb in between Dean and the fire. He'll be warmer that way.

"Fuck, Sammy. Your toes are like ice," Dean grits out when Sam slides in beside him, but he doesn't move away.

"And your legs are warm," Sam answers, slotting his toes in between Dean's ankles. And the position puts his head several inches above Dean's. Which only serves to remind Dean just how big Sam's gotten in the past few years. And that does not help him keep his mind in safe places.

He'd meant for them to lie back to back, but obviously Sam has other ideas. After his feet are shoved between Dean's ankles, he fits his front to Dean's back, leaving a little distance at the middle so his crotch isn't pushed against the small of Dean's back. Common courtesy, Dean thinks. You don't just rub your groin against another guy without permission.

But Sam doesn't stop there. Once he's lying comfortably, he slips an arm around Dean's chest and pulls him in a little closer. And the realization that he's being spooned by his little brother makes Dean shudder in pleasure.

"Sorry. It'll get warmer in a minute, promise," Sam says, misinterpreting Dean's reaction and Dean doesn't respond. Instead, he concentrates on willing away the beginnings of a very inappropriate erection.

For several long minutes they're completely quiet. And Dean has almost succeeded in getting his body under control. But then Sam's hand moves from where it's fisted in front of Dean's body. Those long fingers splay over Dean's chest, one nail scraping a nipple and Dean's breath hitches.

If Sam notices, he doesn't comment. But he presses his face into the top of Dean's head, whispering, "Never realized just how small you are."

There's a huskiness to Sam's voice that Dean's never heard before. He likes it. A lot. And his cock likes it even more. But he reigns in his arousal, though it takes an almost herculean effort.

"'M not small, Sammy. You're just fucking huge."

Sam chuckles at that and burrows deeper into Dean's back, moving down a bit so that his face is almost buried in the back of Dean's neck. And it feels more like it used to, when Sam was still smaller than him. The thought is sobering. Because despite his size, Sam is still his little brother and Dean is supposed to take care of him.

But apparently Sam didn't get that memo, because once he's readjusted, his hand moves a little, ending up spread over Dean's lower abdomen. Heat wells up in him again and Dean's cock fattens back up, straining upward toward the warmth of Sam's big hand. And before Dean can shift away, the head bushes over the side of Sam's hand through the cloth of his underwear.

"Oh god," is all Dean hears through his mortification before Sam moves again, palming Dean through the material. Dean's first response is to push into the pressure but then he wiggles away in embarrassment. But the only way to go is back and his ass meets the hard, hot line of his brother's cock. He freezes instantly, heart pounding and breath coming in ragged little spurts. In just under ten seconds his whole world has been turned on its head. Little Sammy's hand is on his dick. Sam's hard against his ass. And all of his reasons for never doing this before are starting to fade under his undeniable want.

"Sammy?" Dean questions sternly, not sure if he means for it to be a warning or a plea.

"Just… just let me," Sam exhales hot over the back of Dean's neck and his hand grips Dean more firmly, stroking once before settling at his base, "It's just… we need to be warm, right? This will… we can warm each other up like this, right?"

Dean hears what Sam's not saying. It's an offer of sorts. Take what they want under the guise of survival. And Dean could tell Sam that it's not necessary, that they aren't in any real danger of dying. But he's pretty sure Sam already knows that. And if Sam needs the illusion, Dean won't shatter it. He's sure as hell not going to say no either.

"Yeah. Should… ah… do the trick," Dean agrees and feels Sam practically melt into him in relief. Then he stiffens and pushes his hips forward, letting his hard cock rest just in the crack of Dean's ass.

"This okay?" Sam asks quietly, hitching his hips a little as he drags his hand up Dean's shaft. And yeah. That's. Fuck. That's so very okay.

"Yeah, baby. Just keep… come on, Sammy. Need it."

Sam growls, shoves forward again and starts stripping Dean's dick in earnest. And Dean sort of flails under the assault, one hand reaching up and back to hold Sam's face against his neck and the other slipping down to guide Sam's hand at his groin. Their fingers tangle together, and Dean uses his hold to shove Sam's hand inside his underwear, hissing at the first touch of Sam's fingers against his sensitive skin.

It doesn't take long for it become almost stiflingly hot under the blanket and they're both sweating profusely as Sam rocks against Dean's back and his hand speeds up on Dean's dick. The little choked off noises Sam is making only heighten Dean's pleasure and he finds himself tilting his head to get his ear closer to Sam's mouth, wanting to hear every little sound. And that's when he catches the words Sam's murmuring under his breath.

"So hot… needed you… so long, Dean… fuck, feel so good… want in you… wanna fuck you so hard…"

He's done then. Just the thought of Sam's cock pushing into him, of Sam towering over him, making Dean take every last inch. He spills over Sam's hand, body arching so harshly that he displaces the covers, but the cool air feels amazing on his overheated skin.

His body is just starting to relax when he feels Sam still rutting desperately into his backside, following Dean almost off the pallet in the process. Somehow, strangely, hearing Sam's little whimpers of need sends him back into his big brother headspace. But in such a different way than ever before.

Dean flips over and pushes Sam back, gets his hand inside Sam's underwear and fists his throbbing cock. Gotta take care of Sammy is the only thing he thinks when he starts stroking quickly, thumb swiping over the head, rubbing pre-come everywhere as he urges Sam closer and closer to the edge.

"That's it, Sammy. Gonna come for me? Want your come on me, Sam," and in a moment of utter genius, he presses his lips to Sam's jaw and whispers, "Want it in me, Sammy. Want you to fill me up with your dick and your fucking come. Make it hurt so fucking good, baby."

Sam goes off like a rocket, dick pulsing for endless moments in the prison of Dean's hand, his arms scrambling to pull Dean closer. And Dean ends up with a second load of come splashing over his stomach and then getting trapped between their bodies.

For a few seconds, the only sounds in the room are Sam's shivering breaths and the crackling of the dying fire. But then Sam huffs out a laugh and it sounds so forced that Dean's chest tightens in a very unpleasant way.

"Not cold anymore. Guess that was a good idea."

He's brushing it off. Already working on making this nothing. Just something they needed to do. Not something they wanted. Only Dean did want it. And he knows Sam did too. Whether he's wanted it for as long as Dean has, Dean doesn't know. But for those few minutes at least, he and Sam were totally on the same wavelength. Maybe for the first time ever.

And Dean could suppress. He's really fucking good at it. He could let this slide, file it away with a multitude of other things he's sworn never to think about. He could go back to longing with no hope of actually having so easily. Because it's what he's gotten used to over the years. But he doesn't want to do any of that. And he knows his desire would only be stronger now, harder to fight now that he knows what it's like to have Sam. At least partially.

At some point it's going to bite them in the ass, like so many other things they've swept under the rug in the past. And this is something they might not be able to come back from if they let it fester. 

Dean weighs his options and makes his decision surprisingly fast. Sam is so shocked when Dean shifts and presses their mouths together that he attempts to pull away for a beat or two before he opens under Dean's lips. And then they're kissing. Easy as you please. Like they've always done this. Like it's not something completely new and utterly terrifying.

Sam's lips are soft and pliant until Dean's tongue comes out to play. And then he's all hard sucks and teasing nips and Dean groans when Sam presses him into the floor, huge body hovering over Dean's, giant hands spanning Dean's ribs on either side. And if Dean were just a little younger he'd be getting hard again. As it is his dick is twitching valiantly anyway.

But when Sam's mouth moves down, over Dean's jaw and then to his neck, there's nothing overly heated about the kisses he plants here and there. It feels worshipful in a way, not really demanding or even particularly sexual. This is the point where Dean would normally slide away and start hunting down his clothes. They're veering dangerously into cuddle territory. But he doesn't find that urge trying to creep in. Instead, he just wants to drown in Sam's affection. Let Sam handle him in ways he's never let anyone before.

He doesn't fight it. His relationship with Sammy has never fell into the same rules as his relationships with other people. He doesn't want Sam to give him space. He doesn't want Sam to limit his touches. And, even if he sometimes protests, he doesn't mind having Sam's gigantor body plastered all over his. So Dean just goes with it, arches and tilts however Sam needs. He lets Sam's mouth map out his body and figures they can worry about what this means for them later. 

Or maybe Sam can fuck him until neither of them care about consequences.


End file.
